As the Sun Melts Ice
by Caedi.Tarian
Summary: He had simply wanted a safe, normal life for his little brother, but now he's stuck dealing with angry immortals and a matchmaking rabbit. Even worse, a certain halfbreed Dane just won't leave him alone...
1. Wake

**As the Sun Melts Ice  
****Rating:** T (early chapters are more K+)  
**Info**: Fantasy AU fic. Having fun with some mythology.  
**Warning:** Human names are used.

Norway- Mikkel  
Iceland- Varick  
Denmark- Mathias

* * *

**Chapter One: Wake**

Something was wrong. Mikkel groggily stared at the vibrant face of his alarm clock, barely registering that there were another four full hours yet to go before the alarm was set to sound. Even on his best of days, it took several solid minutes of that blasted alarm and possibly a failed smack or two at the snooze button to fully wake him. With a sigh, Mikkel gave one last glance at the glowing numbers, crossing his eyes and squinting just to make sure he had not misread, and all but dragged himself from the comfort of his bed.

'_No point in trying to go back to sleep now, I suppose. I'm already wide awake…_ _Might as well get started on breakfast or something._' Ha. Mikkel managed a sardonic grin. '_This is going to be a long morning._'

Not even two steps out of his room, Mikkel froze. Not only was a light on downstairs, but the clear scent of Norwegian coffee wafted thickly from the kitchen. '_Maybe Varick got up for a drink…_' Mikkel snorted at the thought and silently crept toward the stairs. Varick, like his older brother, had no trouble settling into sleep and remaining dead to the world for eight hours at the least. Not even Varick's sugar cravings held priority over a full night's sleep. Still, why would anyone bother breaking into their house when they owned nothing of value? No one randomly broke into houses to simply brew a cup of coffee…

"Mikkel!"

The Norwegian staggered back as a platinum blond figure bolted from the kitchen. "Wha-? 'Rick, why are you awake? Here I was thinking someone was sneaking about the house." Mikkel attempted a stern expression, but gave up after a few fleeting moments as he noticed his brother's perturbed expression. "What's wrong?"

The seventeen-year-old held up a hand for a second and took a deep breath. "Um, I just woke up a little bit ago, and, uh…" Obviously catching his brother's impatient glare, Varick rolled his eyes. "Look, just don't be mad. Please. I figured you'd be up, so I made some coffee."

Whenever a teenager says "don't be mad", there is only so much an adult can do to prepare himself for the inevitable train wreck he is about to discover. Mikkel, glancing briefly over his shoulder to his room up the stairs, managed to nod and force himself to follow his little brother into the kitchen.

Oddly, nothing looked out of place. The door of the refrigerator was still firmly attached to its respective appliance, the toaster hadn't been half melted, the sink showed no signs of having sprung any more mysterious leaks that could shame a collapsing dam, and… Well, there was a cast iron skillet on the stove with what looked to be eight finger-shaped indentions bending the rim inward, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. "Before you start explaining whatever it is you did, put that away," Mikkel muttered, motioning to the mangled skillet. '_Honestly, I thought he was raised better… I never left dishes out when I was seventeen._'

At that statement, Varick fidgeted, and he merely set two mugs of coffee on the table and plopped into one of the two rickety chairs. "Um, that's kind of what we have to talk about, actually." He did not wait for Mikkel to reply or take a seat, but immediately set to dishing as much sugar into his coffee as he possibly could.

'_Oh, no_.' Mikkel, completely forgetting about his own beverage, stalked to the stove. About half an inch of water had been poured into the skillet, and milky white strands of cooled wax lay submerged in the liquid. Mikkel felt his chest constrict with a sudden bolt of anxiety, suddenly realizing that everything was beginning to make sense. Still, he had to deal with Varick right now.

"Varick, do you want to say it before I do?" Mikkel said softly, slipping into the chair opposite his brother's. Despite his rising frustration, the scent of the coffee was oddly soothing, as always. He watched his brother's expression shift from anxious to mildly confused and then took a sip from his mug as Varick sighed.

Nervously shifting his bangs from his violet eyes, Varick stared doggedly down at his cup of coffee. Well, at this point there was likely more sugar than actual coffee in that mug, but… "Magic is forbidden in this household. Yadda yadda, whatever. I know. Still, this was… I dunno, it felt like an emergency." At this Mikkel's glare turned icy, and Varick dumped half of the sugary drink in his mouth to avoid his brother's gaze.

The only thing more frustrating than the fact that Varick was placing much more attention on the coffee than the situation at hand was that Varick knew better. Magic was all but dead in the world now, especially here, and therefore it was now just as unnecessary as it was dangerous. Mikkel took a deep breath, concentrating on the almond and honey undertones of the coffee's strong scent just long enough to completely calm himself again. "Define emergency, please. What was it that you were trying to see?"

"I woke up. Mikkel, you know that I don't just randomly wake up in the middle of the night unless something big is happening. Something just… _felt_ wrong. You know I can't explain it when stuff like that happens." Varick had calmed down considerably, likely due to the ungodly amount of sugar he had just consumed. He motioned with his hand vaguely as if trying to explain whatever it was he could not quite convey verbally. "It felt like it did back on the night Dad died. _That_ kind of wrong."

Mikkel stared at him in alarm. Varick had always been much more attuned to mystical beings within the real world than he, able to instantly recognize the presence of otherworldly beings in the vicinity and the havoc they wrecked on the human world. Still, even that was no excuse to go meddling with magic, especially since neither one of them was quite proficient in the mythic arts.

"Not again… Our father's death was totally natural, an accident. I remember that night clearly, 'Rick, and Mother said that she had not felt a speck of dark magic hanging around that night. Even if you felt the same thing as you did then, why would that be an emergency? Just go back to sleep next time." '_As if that would ever happen, though_.' Just like himself, Varick would probably never be able to go back to sleep once awakened. Oh, well.

Having finished off his whole mug, Varick stared at it solemnly for a moment. "I wanted to see what it was. Something is here now, and I _had_ to see it. What if suddenly there was another 'accident' and something happened to me? Or you? So, I used the whole wax reading thing to at least find out _what_ it was. Didn't really work, though, as you could probably tell… Either I'm getting rusty or that thing out there is one hell of a monster to be able to hide from me."

"Language, please." And he was certainly not about to admit that he had no idea how to interpret a wax reading. If Varick had done the ritual correctly, that wax, coupled with that special skillet, should have been easy to read, like tea leaves to a gypsy. However, when Mikkel had looked in the skillet earlier, he had seen nothing but swirls and globs of candle wax. Like always.

"So, why are you awake, huh?" Varick slammed his mug onto the table, his usual vigor returning full force. "I bet you felt it, too. Maybe just for a moment, but long enough to knock you out of your nightly coma. Come on, if you knew how powerful this thing felt, you would have done something, too. I just wanted to know what it was, just in case!"

Mikkel opened his mouth to say that his brother was probably just very tired and misinterpreting everything, but suddenly stopped. In an instant he knew something was very wrong. "Oh, grea-"

It felt as if someone had attempted to bash his skull in with a tire iron, shoving away the calming coffee scent and dim lights of his kitchen in one swift motion. Despite the sudden darkness, however, Mikkel knew it was not unconsciousness or death. In fact, he knew that he was perfectly all right, still sitting at the table if he had not fallen out of his chair. But, this… As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Mikkel was able to determine that this was a back alley and that he was sprawled out in a puddle of water. Great.

Sound was returning, but when a rusted car rampaged past the alley, the sound was distant, muted. Mikkel doggedly scrambled to his feet with every intent of just standing in place until the whole ordeal was over before realizing how cold it suddenly felt. Either this dream world's current time was set in a colder month than the real world's new month of June, or he really should have thought about grabbing a shirt before leaving his bedroom. He was uncertain whether this would affect his real self back in the kitchen, but this was not a time to start taking chances. He hated being ill.

As Mikkel darted out of the alley, he could not help but wonder why he was having such a vivid vision _now_ of all times. Usually they were brief flashes of images, like watching a movie in his head. But, every once and a while, these monster visions did occur, which was more like shoving his subconscious self straight into the future (or whatever it was) to witness everything for himself.

'_At least no one can see me here. Someone running around half naked in a city at night would definitely draw unwanted attention_.' Mikkel made sure to check every alley he passed, searching for any more signs of life. The only problem with these more extreme visions was that they never seemed to get him straight to where the event of interest was taking place. As the sound of echoing voices suddenly caught his attention, Mikkel stopped and glanced down the nearest side street to see a pair of figures standing close to the side of a brick building. '_That must be who this vision is about… I hope._' He frowned and changed course, watching the two speakers intently as he drew closer.

Both were blond men, and both were speaking practically under their breath to keep from being overheard. Though, really, there was no one around to hear them. Except for Mikkel, of course, but it was not as if they could see him. Still, the smoke from the taller man's pipe smelled real enough, and Mikkel wrinkled his nose in disgust. It was always so strange that they were so very solid before his eyes and yet he completely invisible to all of them.

The shorter man, after deftly pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, shoved what looked to be a tightly sealed parcel into the other man's arms, his voice rising slightly in what sounded like frustration. Mikkel drew right up beside the taller man, trying to see if there were any markings on the parcel that would reveal what was inside. They were babbling about someone named Feliks now, and none of it sounded particularly interesting. So, this vision had to be focused on this package. It was a plain box, sealed excessively with duct tape. Nothing out of the ordinary there, either.

Before Mikkel could assess the situation further, however, the two men abruptly nodded and turned away from each before trotting off down opposite ends of the street. Rubbing his hands frantically over his cold upper arms, Mikkel hopped from one foot to the other uncertainly. '_I wonder if I should follow one of them… But which? Does it matter? I don't really care that much about some Feliks fellow, and there was no way to tell what was in that parcel.'_

"You know, it's not polite to listen in on other people's conversations."

Mikkel froze, staring at the brick wall to confirm that he was still in the dream world of his vision. There was no one else here, so that voice had to be directed at him… "I could say the same for you, stalking about where no one can see you." A hand grabbed his shoulder then, and Mikkel wheeled on one foot, ready to clock the intruder if the need arose.

"Whoa, hey, what's with that face?" It was another blond man, though he lacked the severe expression of the other two. Instead, this man was actually smirking and he had the gall to give a confident wink at Mikkel's bewildered expression. "You know, I was wondering when you would show up, Norge. I was over in Norway just a few seconds ago, wondering where the hell you and little 'Rick were at." For a second the man grew pensive as Mikkel attempted to piece together what was happening, but then a broad grin overtook the previous smirk. "Did you know there is a field of sheep where your house used to be? Pretty weird!"

No one knew where his previous home was, and not even Varick could remember properly. But here this man was suddenly spouting nonsense about their previous house in Norway and _sheep_ of all things. And "'Rick"? These days, no one but him called Varick "Rick"… Mikkel realized he was probably staring, but could not seem to muster the energy to look away or even blink. This man was so horribly familiar, though not so much in mannerism or appearance as he was in presence. Obviously he could not be wholly human to be prancing about someone else's visions, but Mikkel did not made a habit of making acquaintances with mythic beings.

'_No, wait. What did he call me? I swear he said Norge_!' Now that was a nickname that no one knew, no one except…

"Mathias."

The man's ramblings immediately ceased, and he tilted his head to the side warily. "What? Norge, you look God awful. You okay?"

It was, it had to be. Mikkel took a step backward, holding up a hand to keep the blond man away. "It's been twelve years, Mathias. You're a complete idiot if you think you can just waltz back and expect everything to be dandy around here."

Though with a goofy grin that was much too familiar for Mikkel's liking, Mathias merely shrugged. "When your old momma is a Valkyrie, you start to realize that nothing around here is _completely_ dandy, Norge. That's what beer is for! Now, come on, it's time for you to wake up so you can get some more clothes on and we can talk all proper like. I know where you are now, so I'll meet you back in the real world, okay?"

Mikkel was about to protest, but Mathias immediately pressed a palm to his forehead. That familiar feeling of tire iron to the head returned, and everything went dark.

Mikkel woke with a start, finding that he was still sitting at the table and Varick was up and fiddling with the coffee pot. Even though the kitchen light emitted only a soft, dim glow, the room felt abnormally bright and super saturated. '_Or, rather, the visions are just really dull in comparison to the real world,_' he thought, grimacing. Mikkel closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing that he would adjust quickly. Now, for that coffee…

"This is a nice house. I like it."

Varick threw something across the room before Mikkel could even open his eyes, but the older brother quickly stood to block a certain grinning Danish man from Varick's line of fire. "Hold on, 'Rick. He's harmless." At that the teenager frowned, unconvinced. "Um, I see you're brewing another round of coffee?" Mikkel shook his head when Varick attempted to comment, effectively silencing his little brother. "You aren't going to drink the whole pot, so grab a mug for our guest, all right? I'm going to get changed."

Varick snorted and glared at Mathias as if the Dane were nothing more than a toad that had hopped in through the open window. "This stupid coffee pot only makes two cups at a time… I _was_ planning on drinking the whole thing. What is he doing here, anyway?"

"Be polite to our guest, Varick," Mikkel warned as he headed for the stairs. After getting properly dressed, he would need to search about for some pain killers. He could already tell that a massive headache was inevitable at this point.

::...::

"I don't like you."

"Norge, what happened to the adorable little kid that was your brother?"

"Don't talk about me as if I am not here."

Before this day was over, Mikkel was likely to go absolutely insane. He was only just finishing breakfast, and already he wanted to turn around and toss both his brother and the overbearing halfblood out the door. Not that this was unexpected considering Mathias had not changed a single bit in the past twelve years, but really? Why was Varick acting like this? Those two had gotten along quite well before, though, honestly, Varick had only been five years old back then. '_Which is only making this worse. We cut off all ties with our life from back then, so why did he decide to randomly show up?_'

"-say that again, I'll throw something else at you. This time it will be a knife."

"'Really, 'Rick? Your aim when you threw the toaster was pretty rotten!"

"And you're still in trouble for that, Varick, so I would advise you not to throw anything else in this kitchen," Mikkel said, finally turning away from the stove. They were sitting across from each other at the kitchen's small dinner table, Varick hunched over with his usual unreadable frown and Mathias, as always, grinning like an idiot. "And _you_ stop antagonizing him, Matthias. Varick doesn't remember you and he isn't a little kid any more. You're just some ruffian that broke into our house at o dark thirty."

"Not some ruffian, some_ monster_," Varick said. His violet eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I can tell you aren't human. You look like us, but you're not."

Mathias did not look at all offended, but he did roll his eyes. "Of course I'm not like you. How boring would that be?" The Dane leaned forward and reached for the sugar container, much to Varick's displeasure, and made a show grabbing it. Except, instead of his hand folding around the canister, it went through it. "See? People like you can't do stuff like-"

Mikkel slammed a plate in front of both Varick and Mathias; he did not care that their omelets flopped half onto the table. Still, to anyone save his brother, and possibly Mathias, even now he would seem to appear calm and detached from the situation. "We do not allow magic in this house, is that clear? Mathias, if you are here for any reason other than to be an unwanted nuisance, do tell. If not, you are leaving after breakfast. Varick… Just, please try to ignore him."

As Mikkel turned to retrieve a stool from the corner, he heard a murmured "Have fun trying to do that, 'Rick!" from the table.

::...::

"I could have helped clean up, Norge," Mathias said drowsily from his spot on the living room couch. "'Rick went up stairs ages ago, can you believe it? I guess you're right that he doesn't remember me."

'_Enough of this. I have to know why he is here and find a way to make him leave._' There was only so much hospitality he could show to one of _them_, anyhow. Mikkel doggedly shuffled to the tattered armchair, though he made sure to poke Mathias on the way to keep him from falling asleep. "All right, Mathias. Why are you here?"

Mathias took an abnormal interest in the opposite wall for a moment, as though the maroon wallpaper were talking to him rather than Mikkel. "Hmm, no reason. I just happened to be in Norway this morning and decided to swing by your house." At this he shrugged and leaned over to grab his mug from the coffee table, flashing a wide grin at which Mikkel glared in return. "Obviously the house wasn't there. I was kind of worried, you know? Last time I saw you, your mother wasn't doing all that well, and you two kids were kind of… Well, I guess it's good you have those freaky visions, eh? I probably never would have found you otherwise!"

He was willing to accept that for now, but Mikkel was going to get the real answer out of the Dane eventually. They had been friends once, back when his family had no qualms with magic and mythical beings. Still, something was a bit off. "Where did you go? Mother was practically in hysterics, thinking you had been killed or something. I mean, you were, what, twelve? Just fell off the planet, it seemed."

"Hey, there's something you need to know about us non humans, and that's that we can take care of ourselves. And I was thirteen then."

Mikkel wasn't sure if Mathias was evading the question or if he had just honestly only heard the bit about his guesstimated age. It never had been easy to tell with that guy. "Where were you?" he repeated, more firmly this time.

There was no getting around it this time without betraying the fact that he obviously didn't want to answer that question. "Pfft, man, you are so uptight, Mikkel. I've been in the ethereal world this whole time, and it was really lame. I couldn't get out, you see."

Mikkel had never really bothered to learn much about the ethereal world, the counterpart to their own corporeal world. All he knew was that his visions brought his mind to that place, a place that looked like the corporeal world, their "real" world, but wasn't. Not entirely. "I don't like it there." Obviously Mathias didn't either, so Mikkel bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but you have not exactly been in the family's good graces for a while. Our father was always telling us that you were doing this or that. I never listened to him about that, though. Still, you left right after he died, and it sort of made people suspicious. It's been difficult trying to convince even 'Rick that it was all an accident."

Mathias frowned with mock hurt and set his now empty mug on the coffee table. "Well, maybe I can make it up to you guys! If I can just crash here for-"

"I don't think so. And don't give me that look, it's childish." Honestly, it was like talking to a four-year-old half the time. Still, Mathias had stayed with them for several years back in their previous house, and it had not been much of a problem. '_No, things are different now. It's hard enough trying to keep Varick out of the old rune books, and now suddenly a half Valkyrie wants to stay here? It's almost as if heaven is purposefully trying to ruin everything I've worked for!_' And yet, it would not be right to throw an old friend out on the street, either. "We don't have a spare room, and I would really rather that you did not set up residency in our living room." That would only scare off their normal, human friends and possibly drive Varick to homicide. "I could talk to the neighbors… I know Berwald was thinking of renting his basement rooms out."

"Berwald?" Mathias echoed, bewildered. "Huh. We'll have to look into that later. Anyway, whatever. Uh, what's been going on in the world in the past twelve years? I mean, I haven't exactly been around."

Mikkel stared in surprise, wondering how he could have possibly persuaded the Dane from wanting to stay at their house so easily. Well, maybe Mathias had changed a bit. Hopefully. "Well, I suppose you've missed a lot…"

**AN:  
**Hot-blooded Iceland. Won't be seeing that for much longer now that Denmark is around, so don't worry.


	2. New Day

**As the Sun Melts Ice  
****Rating:** T (early chapters are more K+)  
**Info**: This was actually my first Hetalia story (the first five chapters written fully over the summer and are just being tweaked), before I got really silly with the character of Netherlands. Hope you enjoy him being a badass as much as I do. :)  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, obviously.  
**Warnings: **Netherlands alert!

Belgium- Amelie  
Netherlands- Nikolas

* * *

**Chapter Two: New Day**

They were late. Ivan had never been particularly impatient, but, after all those years of imprisonment, he did not appreciate having to wait idle again so soon. So, he preoccupied himself by merely watching the city in the distance, which was, to the naked eye, but a mere glow in the early morning darkness. However, to Ivan it was a whirlwind of colors and sounds, too chaotic to sift through but clear enough that he was confident that he had not lost any of his former power while trapped in the ethereal world. Staying too long in that place soon dulled one's senses, and for the longest time he had worried about what sort of consequences his twelve year imprisonment would yield.

"_Ivan, is that you? Oh, it is wonderful to see you again! I'm so sorry for coming so late, but it is hard to find you out in that place."_

"Katyusha?" His elder sister, due to her nature, was unable to manifest herself in the corporeal world at any time except at the hours directly after noon. Even her voice had not been spoken physically, but rather seemed to sound directly in Ivan's mind. However, if Ivan concentrated on a spot next to the tree he was currently in, he could almost seem to see the form of Katyusha. Ivan smiled as he dropped from the tree branch. "I am glad that you were able to find me."

Katyusha happily returned his smile. "Natalia should be here shortly, too. She said she had something very important to take care of before she came."

It was difficult to think of something that Natalia would consider more important than the arrival of her beloved brother, but Ivan almost did not mind. He could still remember a time when they were children and Natalia refused to leave his side for a week, a tiny hand constantly either possessively gripping his own or clutching at his shirttails. Ivan's smile faltered slightly at the memory, but he nodded to Katyusha nonetheless. "It is good that we will all be together again."

And that included those three, too… It was to be expected that Toris, Eduard, and Raivis would not notice his return from the ethereal world considering they were merely humans. Vaguely Ivan wondered what they could possibly have been doing in the past twelve years without their master to guide them. And Feliks. That rat was probably still hiding away somewhere, thinking he could escape them.

"Katyusha, have you seen Feliks at all lately?"

Despite her faint appearance, Ivan could clearly see his sister's frown. However, before she could respond, a mass of silver hair and purple fabric all but rammed into his side.

"Ivan, you're here!" Natalia flung her arms around him, though her voice sounded more frantic than cheerful. "You'll never believe it, but it's gone! I checked the chest myself, and the lock was broken and, and…" She looked up mournfully at Ivan. "I have no idea what happened, but it's not there!"

Katyusha was staring in confusion, but Ivan immediately understood what his little sister spoke of. It was twelve years ago that he had asked her to protect that item, knowing that she, of all people, would not fail him. It had been a simple task, and he had asked nothing else of her or any of the others for that matter… Still, what was done was done and the only thing left was to retrieve his misplaced possession. "When did this happen?"

Natalia huffed in frustration, shaking her silvery mane of hair from her face. "This morning, of all times! It was a few hours ago, I think."

That was too much of a coincidence. Someone had either known he was coming or sensed the act itself. Still, Ivan's smile returned full force, and he hesitantly gave Natalia a brief pat on the head. "Well, we just have to find it now, don't we?"

Katyusha glanced away upon seeing his gaze on her, but Natalia, as always, somehow seemed immune to that stare. Instead, the younger sister released him and gave a quick nod.

"Search for it. Katyusha, it must be in the corporeal world, _this_ world, so I'm afraid you will not be able to properly locate it. Natalia, however…" His little sister's face lit up at the mention of a new task to prove her love for him, and Ivan had to remind himself to not look away and risk a rib-breaking hug of joy. "You remember what it looks like, yes?"

For a moment Katyusha thought deeply about what she had just heard. Then, her expression changed to one of severe anxiety. "Oh,_ that_ is missing?" Neither replied to this, and Katyusha bit her lip as her eyes glazed over with the threat of tears. "Oh, no, Brother, this is awful… I will help in any way I can! But, um, I must go now… It is difficult to even maintain this much presence in this world."

Katyusha's form faded, and Natalia huffed impatiently. "Ivan, I will find it! I will start searching right now, and I will bring that treasure back to you!"

And, she meant it. Natalia was already turning to leave when Ivan caught her wrist. She glanced back, confused, though still just as unresponsive to his malevolently cheerful smile as she was to the gaze that could freeze any human in his tracks.

"Before that, would you mind telling me where our three human friends might be?"

::...::

It was nearly ten o'clock already, and for some reason Nikolas was still upstairs instead of on his way to work. Amelie stood hesitantly at the bottom of the stairwell, debating whether to see what was wrong or just ignore him. After all, he had come uninvited in the middle of the night, not bothering to explain what he was doing here. Who knew if he even had a job any longer.

"I swear, if you're hiding out from the police again because of some girl, I'll turn you in myself." Amelie looked to the overly fluffy, floppy eared rabbit sitting on the back of the couch with an exasperated sigh. "Well, at least he brought you along instead of leaving you at his place with no one to care for you. Poor thing, how did you wind up with an owner like my brother?" It could be worse, though. It could have been the other brother.

Amelie released her death grip on the stairwell banister with a sigh. '_Fine, then. If he wants to stay holed up there all day, I'm not going to stop him. He'll come down when he gets hungry._' Speaking of which, the rabbit had not been fed. "Come here, Miffy. Good girl." Amelie scooped the fluffy animal into her arms, smiling as its forelimbs wrapped around her arm.

Miffy struggled a bit in her arms as she took the animal into the bright, airy kitchen, but Amelie easily calmed the rabbit. The pale yellow walls and ivory and silver appliances almost seemed to glow in the sunlight as it poured through the various ceiling-high windows. Vaguely the scent of daffodils wafted from center window, which had been left slightly ajar. Amelie set Miffy on the counter and gave the room a content glance over. Here, she could almost forget that one of her brothers was loafing about upstairs and that she would very soon have to find another job for herself. '_Everything is going to be all right. I can feel it._'

The rabbit watched wide-eyed as Amelie reached over the wide sink to shove the center window open the rest of the way and then proceed to check the flower box outside. Said flower box actually held vegetables.

"Maybe I can convince Nikolas to leave you here. I'm sure a fresh diet of vegetables is much healthier than whatever it is he is feeding you." Amelie paused to give Miffy a brief pat on the head before gently pulling a carrot from the flower box. "It is good that they are ready to be eaten. If not we would have- Oh, w- wait!" Green eyes widened in horror as Miffy sprang through the window, bolting across the lawn as soon as her paws hit grass.

'_Oh, damn. I can't even see her anymore!_' Amelie promptly set the carrot aside and ran for the front hall. '_Still, I have to try and catch her before Nikolas finds out… Today couldn't be any worse!_' However, as she collided with something upon entering the front hall, Amelie quickly amended that thought. '_Well,_ now_ it can't get any worse._'

Nikolas put out a hand to steady his sister, but made no other motion to show he even realized she had run into him. Under his other arm he held a box heavily sealed with duct tape, which he shifted slightly to keep from her line of sight. "I'll be back. Take care of the rabbit."

Before she could properly process what was happening, Nikolas was already heading for the door. "Yes, come back to being a layabout in your sister's house," she scoffed, though he either did not hear her or did not care. As soon as the door closed behind him, Amelie slipped into her shoes in the hall and all but ran out of the house. Again, Nikolas continued on without paying any attention to her.

'_Good. It's better that way. Now, to find that rabbit!_' Well, so much for wanting to try and get her mind off of things by caring for Miffy. "What a mess!"

::...::

So much for trying to tell his halfbreed friend about the world of the past decade. Mathias had fallen asleep after only several minutes, and Mikkel had not really minded. There was something strange happening, and he was intent on figuring out just what it was. First of all, something must have happened that involved both the ethereal and corporeal worlds, something that caused a big enough disturbance to wake both him and Varick. Beyond that, Mikkel had had a rare vivid vision, and Varick was babbling on about something involving not feeling quite right. Maybe Mathias finding them had been a coincidence?

"He's still here."

Mikkel did not look up from his task of stuffing a sopping wet load of dark laundry into the clothes dryer. "Yes, Varick, he's sleeping." Unfortunately, Varick didn't have school since it was already June. Hopefully Mathias would be out of the house before things got hairy. "Weren't you going to play football with that one kid this summer? I thought you mentioned wanting to try out for the school team this year, and that would be good practice."

He looked up just in time to catch the slightest of grimaces on his little brother's face. It was gone in an instant, though. "With Peter?" The unsaid 'I would rather not' hung heavily in the following silence. Then, Varick sighed. "That Mathias is the one that everyone said killed Dad, isn't he?"

The dryer door slammed shut, and Mikkel shook his head vehemently. "You don't even remember that. You just remember overhearing Mother and me talking about it. And for the last time, it isn't true, Varick."

Despite his collected expression, Varick's eyes narrowed. "How do you know? She always told us not to trust people who aren't human, said they would sooner kill us than-"

"This is an awesome bird."

Varick turned on heel so quickly he nearly feel over, and Mikkel groaned when he saw that a certain Dane had gotten a hold of a tiny puffin. "Mathias, you shouldn't-"

"Put him down." Varick did not wait for an answer, instead taking two swift steps and holding out a hand to the bird. The puffin immediately gave a few frantic beats of the wings and almost seemed to hop right onto the teenager's wrist. "I'm going for a walk, Mikkel… Be back later." With that, he stalked out of the laundry room.

"You won't endear yourself to him by taking his bird, idiot," Mikkel muttered as he flipped the dials on the ancient dryer. It churned to life with a monstrous growl, though the blond did not give it a second glance. "Come on, we should go see if Tino is home… He doesn't work on Saturdays like Berwald does."

Mathias seemed to want to comment, but, surprisingly, he managed to hold his tongue. He followed without a word, though he touched every picture frame on the hallway walls and made sure to poke the bare light bulbs that hung precariously from the ceiling.

'_If he doesn't break anything, we'll be very lucky…_' Besides, it wasn't as if they really had the money to replace anything that broke. Mikkel made sure to open the front door with care, as always, considering it felt as though a strong gust of wind would rip it from its hinges. "It's just right next door, come on."

::...::

The door slammed in their faces.

Mikkel stared, stunned, at the scarlet front door and the cheery "welcome" sign that hung at his eye level. "Tino?" The tiny blond man had opened the door with his usual smile, but in an instant his face passed from alarmed to furious before the door was suddenly closed.

Mathias was laughing so hard that he was practically bent double. "D-did you see his face? That was great!"

Figures that Mathias would be the cause of it. "What did you do to him?" Mikkel knocked on the door again. "Tino, I don't know what he did, but I'm sure he's sorry!"

"He's not going to open the door," Mathias said as soon as he was able to stop laughing. He plopped down onto the steps and grinned up at his annoyed human companion. "Might as well get comfortable and wait. He won't open the door, but I bet he's on the phone right now."

"Probably calling the police."

"Nah, calling _Berwald_."

Mikkel stared at him for a moment. '_Wait, what did he say? I know I mentioned Berwald's name earlier, but how did he…?_' He looked back at the door for a moment before sitting down next to Mathias. "It seems almost like you know my neighbors."

Matthias flashed him his widest grin. "Oh, you don't even know, Norge."

They sat there for five minutes, then ten… Mikkel mentioned at some point that Berwald worked in the city over and that it would take at least half an hour for him to arrive. If Tino had seriously called for him, that is. By then Mikkel was having his doubts.

After twenty minutes, Mikkel got to his feet. "He must not have called. Well, since apparently they hate you for some reason, I guess that means you're out of luck finding a cheap place to stay. It's the motel for you."

"Oh, not quite. Look there!" Mathias pointed to a white car rampaging down the street at a speed that would put drag racers to shame. "That must be him."

And, with a sinking feeling, Mikkel knew it was. The car screeched to a halt just in front of the house and Berwald was crossing the lawn within moments. It felt as though it took no time at all for the giant Swedish man to loom over them. And loom he did until Mathias jumped to his own feet.

"Berwald!" Mathias all but attacked the glaring man in a massive bear hug, falling into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Why do you look so surprised to see-"

A resounding _thunk_ immediately cut the Dane off, and Mikkel stepped back when he realized it was Tino, who must have quietly opened the door when they were distracted by Berwald. It actually wasn't just Tino, it was Tino with a frying pan. Mathias fell over in an instant. Not even a half Valkyrie could remain on his feet after receiving a sound whack on the head with anything in the hands of Tino.

"You all right, Berwald?" Tino glanced up to his housemate to catch Berwald's curt nod before he turned his attention back to the felled Mathias. Both of his hands were clamped tightly around the handle of the cast iron skillet as if he were half expecting Mathias to leap up and attack him. "What's he doing here? How'd he find them so quickly?"

Rather than answering, Berwald instead put a hand on Mikkel's shoulder. "Where is V'rick?"

**AN:  
**Serious, fantastical plots are extremely hard for me to work with, especially since I'm trying to get everything to develop at a specific pace. Every few paragraphs I think "Fuck this, let's just get Prussia and Denmark in a bar and have them wreck havoc all over the city" or something similar.

Also, I know plenty of people still have school in June. Bear with me here, everything is for a reason.


End file.
